<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Creatures of the Ninth World by HonestScribe</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494799">Creatures of the Ninth World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonestScribe/pseuds/HonestScribe'>HonestScribe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Numenera (Roleplaying Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Flora &amp; Fauna, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fantasy, Monsters, Mythical Beings &amp; Creatures, POV Animal, Science Fiction, bestiary, some stories are more canon compliant than others, xenofiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:55:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonestScribe/pseuds/HonestScribe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A billion years in the future, humanity must contend with some of the most bizarre creatures to walk the Earth. Most stories focus on the heroes. These focus on the creatures themselves, told from their perspective.</p><p>A collection of drabbles, some serious, some fluffy, all weird. Welcome to the Ninth World.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Celestial Singer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The Ninth World Bestiary 3, Page 33.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The mortals visited the singer once every few years, asking questions they deemed terribly important, about the affairs of local kingdoms and the sway of history. Sometimes the singer would oblige, tapping into the mind of the datasphere, but most often it would continue with its song, tentacles swaying in a rhythm no other mind could comprehend. If the mortals understood time as it did, heard the rhythm of the stars, they would not ask their questions. They would understand how meaningless their lives were. All that mattered was the song, the search, for its one star, its undying love.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Self-Aware Protodidact Refutes Its Official Description</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pure, non-canon nonsense inspired by the creature's appearance. The Ninth World Bestiary 3, page 124.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Most naturalists will tell you I model myself after a stalagmite. Though I compose myself from drit, I am too special to demean myself by dwelling in a mere cave. What I actually aspire to is the form of a cupcake, a mythic delicacy from eons past, said to be so overwhelmingly saccharine and aesthetically appealing that humans would sell their very souls for the taste of one. I am that lure. I hunger for knowledge as humans once hungered for cupcakes. I crave data’s flavor sliding over my nanite processors. Nothing tastes sweeter than knowledge, especially the forbidden kind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Broken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't help it, I think the broken hound is adorable! Definitely playing fast and loose with canon. Numenera Corebook, page 232.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The broken hound was monstrous, with a head like a crow’s skull on a gaunt canine frame, but he did not know this. The soft-skinned human was meant to be his prey, but he did not know this either. He knew only his love for her, who pulled him from the rapids as a pup. He knew her hands and her voice, her warmth and her laughter. But most of all, he knew her tears. He knew how to share in her losses, how to lick her tears away. He loved her because she knew how to be broken, too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. To Soothe a Savage Beast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The Ninth World Bestiary, page 76.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            The Llaric Scorpion discovered quite by accident the effect her music had on humans. One of the beasts had her bleeding and cornered when she made a fluting scream.</p><p>            The beast stopped mid-blow and lowered its blade, looking as if it had completely forgotten what it was doing. It sat there like a child, rocking on its haunches and humming. She trilled as she made her escape, not quite sure what she had seen but filled with curiosity.</p><p>            She experimented in her arachnid way. The humans sang, danced, laughed, professed their love to her.</p><p>            The last willingly entered her jaws.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pride and Piracy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The Ninth World Bestiary, page 77.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Lorub was a vain creature, the prized mount of a pirate captain whose vanity was even greater. He preened and crooned at himself like a seabird every time he saw his reflection. He barked orders at his men like a bull pinneped. He chased women like schools of fish. He mounted useless spikes and baubles on her, attempting to transform her into a ridiculous image of himself. The Lorub could assure him his pink flesh would never look as fine as her crimson hide. Whenever his pride grew too great, she dunked him, reminding him who pulled his weight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Cat's Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The Ninth World Bestiary 3, page 20.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            The aorix was an improbable being, twelve feet high with a hairless form, a mind prone to madness, and steaming eyes which not only saw worlds but remade them.</p><p>            His distant ancestors had once been housecats, self-possessed creatures who could see other worlds long before they could name them. The aorix was the summit of their dreams. He roamed forgotten places where reality was more malleable, stepping between worlds and molding them with a blink. He relished his power as only a feline can.</p><p>            When the humans returned, they no longer recognized their beloved pets or the world they’d shaped.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Blood Trails</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Ninth World Bestiary, page 73.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Kiprus seeped into the world like blood through water. It floated through the air, dripping, curling, leaving rocks scorched, grasses withered, insects without shells. But death was not its aim.</p><p>It meant to kill sometimes. Death was a tool, used wisely. It absorbed much information this way, the structure of bone and musculature, the strange sensation called pain. But this was not its prize. The remains of ancients lied here, their movements once restricted by metal bodies, their minds trapped in processors. How many secrets their remnants contained. It paid its respects then absorbed them, treasuring their forgotten knowledge.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>